I was once made to feel a complete fool
I think the fool quite enjoyed it...

However back to the question. A friend once convinced me that they had no belly button. They also convinced me that this was quite a common affliction and was horrified that I had never heard of it before. (When I asked to examine their buttonless stomach they got extremely offended and called me a "buttonist".)
( Pedere Penfold...shush., Sat 23 Aug 2008, 17:29, 1 reply)

Visiting today: Dr Loof Lirpa
Enzyme reminds me, when I was still at school, maybe year 8, there was a note put in the morning register. It read something like this, I can't remember the exact wording;

'All Year 8 students are to go to the assembly hall at 11:00 for a speacial visit from Dr Loof Lirpa. He is here to talk to everyone about their future careers.

I, aswell as others, were happy to be missing a lesson and didn't consider this request to be fraudulent or even slightly odd, besides they often have special visitors in to talk to us all.

At 11 everyone finished morning break and were *apparently* due in the assembly hall. However most people had already heard this was a practical joke played by a small group from one class.

Some people on the other hand did not know of this and went to find the hall being used for a play rehearsal and were a very unwelcome distraction.

I was fortunate to have heard of the plot and avoided humiliation. Those that didnt arrived to class late, several given detention for wasting time.

The real trick I believe was that only 1 tutor out of 7 classes realised the prank, even though it was april fools day.

Length? erm... I'd rather not say
(Masterb3ta, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 17:17, Reply)

Australia
Now it is true that Australia is pretty much full of animals that like to bite, sting, poison etc. and not a year goes past with out some stupid tourist thinking it's a really great idea to take a swim in a river that happens to have crocodiles living in it. But by far the most dangerous Australian creatures are the drop-bears and the hoop-snakes. Or so we tell the tourists. *grin.
(rattus, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 16:54, 5 replies)

Oh Dearie Dearie Me
Time to confess.

Osok Junior. A strapping (enormous) 4 year old, with the graceful moves of an epileptic Michael J Fox, the subtlety of a B-52 strike and the food intake requirements of a medium to large wildebeest.

Now we'd been really happy parents when Junior showed little interest in sweeties, preferring fruit and for some reason celery.

Basking in middle-class righteousness, as the Haribo-Addled HyperActive Wee Shits (TM applied for) ran riot around us.

And then, he started going to birthday parties. Specifically the ones organised at play barns by competitive mummies. And he'd get a party bag like all the rest, and sweeties and so forth.

Now junior absolutely MUST burn off the energy that day or there's hell to pay. The angelic blue-eyed curly headed blond child turns into the sprog from the Exorcist, albeit without the Crucifix bit. So far.

So if sugary crap has been ingested, a few swift gallops in the park are a matter of national importance.

Now, there are two things that will send him absolutely 100% batshit crazy, bouncing off the walls like a pingpong ball.

The first is a strawberry smoothie.

Specifically (if you know Chester) the ones sold in the Grosvenor Precinct. The walk back to City Road, being towed along by a waist-high demonic chimpanzee, alternating cries of WHHHAAARRRRGGGHH at stray pigeons and aggressive dogs with snatches of Roary the Racing Car lyrics at full volume, is an experience the memory of which still makes me wince.

The other is ice-cream.

Now, being such a cool chappie, B3tan, down wiv da yoof and all that, I decided that it would be terribly ironic, possibly urban-myffic, to tell him the old porkie about the ice-cream van playing the music when they were empty. Cue knowing snigger etc etc.

He believed me. He still does.

I'm going to look like the biggest twat in the Western Hemisphere when he tells this one at school. Teachers will sneer at me for being a tightwad, the mummy-mafia will rattle their jewellery at me in derision, and the husbands...won't be there.

And my wife teaches at the same school. She'll come home one day and hit me so hard in the genitals that I'll be the only man ever to be admitted to the Genito-Urinary and Ear Nose & Throat Wards simultaneously.

So, taking a deep breath, I admit my sin to She Who Must Be Ignored.

"Oh, I used to believe that"

And there we have it. Proof that Gullibility* is hereditary.









*or the 'Fuckwit Gene' as I referred to it until a sudden sharp pain persuaded me to change my mind.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 16:25, 4 replies)

gullible or just a bad day.
A good few years ago me and my mates were sitting in one of their houses. One of them is drinking a can of coke. As we're sitting there I tell her to look at the bottom of the can since it 'looked strange'.
Well, she did look but rather than lifting the open can higher than her eye level she proceeds to tip it upside down pouring coke all over her lap.

Oh how we laughed.
(bangorip fears all is not well, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 15:41, Reply)

not me but someone else
It is staggering what people will buy, if you deliver it properly.

If you are an old git you might have done tech drawing at school.

Depending on the layout of plan, front and side elevations they are either 3rd or 1st angle orthographic projection and you label the drawing in the description box.

Gazz, never the sharpest tool in the shed, and even dimmer when he was 12, turns back to me and says "ere `ow dyew spell that thing?"

P-O-R-N-O-G-R-A-P-H-I-C.

"cheers" and he wrote it exactly. I couldn`t believe he didn`t twig, until the teacher spotted it on his walkround.
"what`s this boy?" it was obvious Gazz hadn`t a clue.
Mr Press looked straight at me, and trying to keep a straight face, just said "I expect better from you".
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 15:34, Reply)

My friend Tony was very gullible, and didn't know much of the ways fo the world...
Many years ago, we were in a pub having a drink. In fact, it was the bar at the sports centre where we'd just played squash.

Pubs were quite new to both of us then, and especially Tony. Anyway, after a few minutes I suggested a game of pool. Tony had never played before so I said I'd show him as we went along.

I put the money in the table, and all the balls collected in the receptacle at the end of the table. I set them up, explained the rules briefly, and we started playing. After a few minutes I potted the white, and told Tony that meant he got to take 2 goes.

Off to the end of the table he went to get the white ball, only to frown and feel around in the table before looking at me quizzically.

Now, those of you who play pool will know that the white generally comes out the other end of the table to all the colours - this being Tony's first time though he had no idea.

"You have to go and get it back from behind the bar" I told him, and before I had a chance to giggle or anything off he'd gone.

Sadly, although I'd like to tell you I watched in glee as he made a complete arse of himself with the bar staff, my (giggling manically) conscience made me catch him up and show him that I did in fact already have possession of the ball he needed.


/couple of inches, white, and perfectly spherical
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 15:19, Reply)

Tricked my girlfriend...
I told her I'd been cloned in a lab once... she believed me.

Then the next day I told her that the strange feeling in her leg was another toe growing... and she checked... daft bitch...
(thatdudewithbreasts, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 15:04, Reply)

I wont cum on your face...
... I said, and she believed me. Talk about gullible.
Still it was worth it to see the hot rivulets of my startlingly voluminous payload of semen running down her face.
(Vic Flange, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 14:50, 1 reply)

The Farm
I was but a beardless youth, on the top deck of the school bus when I overheard the following conversation:

Boy #1: "Dint your dog bite someone?"

Boy #2: "Yeah. Me dad had to send it to live on a farm where they can look after him and he won't get into trouble again..."

Despite my status as a complete greenhorn, a non-cynical hope-for-the-best optimist, I was astounded at the audacity of the lies this bufoon swallowed!

Did he really believe that somewhere, somehow, someplace (Ed: starting to sound like a musical number there, stoppit!), there was a dogs' shangri-la where vicious and uncontrollable mutts could live out their lives in happiness and contentment? Probably chasing rabbits in the daytime and dozing by the fire, next to the feet of the kindly old farmer's wife at night. Doubtless, the occasional bone to chew as well.

I desperately wanted to tell boy #2 the truth. His old man had popped down the vets, handed over six quid and old Rover had been injected, stuffed in a plastic bag and then lobbed in a dumpster marked "Caution - Biohazard", all inside ten minutes.

I didn't tell him. He was one of the tougher kids at school and his reaction might not have been one of grateful enlightenment.

I thought no more of this until about ten years later, when the bloke who was to become my uncle was reminiscing about the pup he'd had as a boy. It too got sent to live on a farm. He was 31 when he told me this.

Knowing I was on safer ground, as my doting aunty would have withdrawn all fanny priviledges indefinitely if he'd reacted badly, i pointed out the logical flaws in this tale.

The look on his face was priceless. It went from cheerful, to betrayed disbelief in a single smooth motion, like a sloppy blancmange slowly sliding off an injudiciously tilted plate.
(apologies_for_length, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 14:35, 1 reply)

Hook, Line, Sinker
.
I was around ten or eleven when this happened and it affected the rest of my life. Since this incident I've always looked for *how did they do that* explanations for unexplainable things.

Let me take you back to 1970

~~~~~~~~~~wavy lines~~~~~~~~~~

They were building the school I eventually went to and it was a massive affair. Room for 1600 kids drawn from all over the district. It was one of the first Comprehensives in Britain.

So one weekend a group of us kids were wandering around this massive construction site. It was kind of eerie - scary.... I can remember looking at the new kitchens with the massive steam-cookers they had. These were big enough to fit at least 20 kids inside - it was disturbing. They looked very like the machines that the Cyber-Men of Doctor Who fame came out of.

I'd had enough. Something about this disturbed me. Time for me to leave. So I told my brother that I was heading back to the pond and he could met me there when they'd finished exploring.

So me and my group of younger kids headed back to the ponds leaving my brother and the older kids still exploring the site.

We waited by the pond, messing about trying to catch frogs and newts and my uneasiness gradually faded. We started to have fun again.

Then I heard it. A crashing through the undergrowth and my brothers voice screaming...

"No..No..NO..NOOOOOOOO......"

He crashed out of the bushes and fell about 20 feet away, his face awash with red. Behind him came Bob, his best mate, and a really tough bastard. He was screaming too as he legged it towards us.

Behind him came the horrors.

I've never shit or pissed myself in fear but I came desperately close to it that day. I can still remember my sphincter tightening, the hairs on my arms and my neck coming up to full bristle stage and the sheer terror of what I saw.

Running out of the bushes were the remaining three of my brothers mates. But they were altered. Their faces and arms were a hideous cracked grey - I could see grey scabs cracking and dropping off as they ran towards us. They were the undead incarnate.

I screamed and took off like a bat out of hell.

I've never been a fast runner but that day I would have left Linford Christie eating dust. I flew.


I eventually came to civilisation and headed straight for the nearest phone box. Tears where streaming down my face as I grabbed the phone and desperately dialled 999. We'd need the police and the army and the Church and - fuck-it - we'd need EVERYONE to try and deal with the undead.

The phone rang a couple of times and the n the operators voice came on with "Emergency - which service please?" and I shouted "EVERYONE...." and then the phone cut out. Bob had followed me and cut the call off.

He took me out of the phonebox and tried to explain that it was all a joke. He was four years older than me and probably weighed twice as much as me and it was all muscle but he was looking at me warily as he tried to calm me down.

Eventually sanity returned as Bob explained that it was all a joke. Nobody was hurt, nobody had been killed and the undead weren't stalking the Earth. We went back to the pond where all was revealed.

The undead effect was my brothers mates covering themselves with a thick layer of slimy mud. As the mud dried in the sun it gave the cracked peeling look that had terrified me.

The spray of red as my brother went down was simply red emulsion that they'd found on the building site.

OK - I was ten or eleven and had a vivid imagination, but nothing, ever, has come even close to the sheer terror of that day.

Gullible? - Yes.

But since then I've always looked for the rational explanation of the odd events that life throws at you.

Woo! - bit of an epic...

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 14:24, 1 reply)

I prefer to think it was my evil genius that caused this, rather than my friend's gullibility...
I used to work with a guy called Glaston, and along with another colleague we were in a band.

Glaston booked a rehearsal studio round the corner from work, but before we had a chance to use it found a better one and booked that too.

We told him to cancel the first one but he didn't... so one morning I concocted a letter from the first studio on their headed paper (which was actually just their logo downloaded from the net) explaining that since he'd failed to cancel, he owed the £43 for the studio, plus late cancellation fee, legal charges, interest etc. The total bill came to about £225 I think. There was also a paragraph saying "DO NOT contact the studio about this; the matter has been passed to our legal department and the studio staff are not allowed to discuss the case with you". He had to contact a lady called Helen, and a phone number was provided (my mobile number).

Glaston walked into the office a few minutes later and I handed him the letter, saying it had been delivered by courier and I'd just signed for it. Reading it, as you can imagine he went ballistic, and stormed around the place shouting about how it was bollocks and £200 was taking the piss.

Everyone convinced him in the end that he couldn't leave it as it was a legal matter and the letter had been signed for, so he'd have to ring them and see if he could do a deal.

At lunchtime, he disappeared upstairs in the warehouse, and shortly afterwards my mobile rang. Sure enough it was Glaston so, putting on the most ridiculous Australian accent you've ever heard I answered, giving the name of the "Legal Firm". In a tiny voice, Glaston asked to speak to Helen whereupon I told him she was at lunch, so could I take his number and I'd get her to call him back. I was struggling so hard not to laugh, I can't believe he hadn't twigged it was me.

Anyway, a couple of minutes later we all piled upstairs to where Glaston was sitting with his head in his hands, presumably thinking about how skint he'd be without that £200.

Amongst a chorus of "What happened?" and "Have you got to pay it?" I gently enquired "What did the Australian guy say?".

Glaston looked at me and slowly, oh so slowly, realisation dawned in his eyes as he thought it through and realised that I shouldn't know it had been an Australian guy...

"You cunt" was all he said, but he did actually take it really well (and see the funny side) once he'd thought it through. That moment though of the light switching on his eyes as he realised will always stay with me as one of those perfect moments =)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 14:20, Reply)

First time on a plane
We once told a bloke at work who was about to go on an aeroplane for the first time that if it's your first time flying, you have to go to the doctors one or two days beforehand for your oxygen injections. Otherwise the cabin pressure would crush your veins and kill you.

The sorry twat believed us for a few days until he made a couple of phone calls to check it out.
(Taunting Lunatics Belming at you since, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 14:07, Reply)

Not me but my mate Marc
He told his wife a year ago that there was a crocodile farm in a field over where our local pub is in Shedfield (Hampshire). She believed him, and refused to come to the pub to have a drink. Recently, on arriving at my birthday party I told her otherwise......they left early, with her in a raging mood and red-faced. Marc just thought it was even funnier than him telling her in the first place. (we are GOOD friends!)*

Mind you he's told her so many lies she believes he's got alot to make up for. For instance, she knows about his previous wife and 2 children. What she doesn't know is the two wives before that and the children he sired from those marraiages. The child from the first marriage has now just turned 18 and wants to see her Daddy.........

*I hope she doesn't read b3ta
( Tiggy the diver, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 13:46, 2 replies)

I once convinced my little brother
That swallows have teeth. I do this from time to time - the trick is to offer a perfectly reasonable explaination as to why something utterly ridiculous is in fact - perfectly possible. Mine was "well - they're not exactly teeth - more like serrated protusions from their beaks to shred the grass seeds from the grass- anyway - hen's have teeth so it's obviously some sort of evolutionary throwback from a common anscestor"

Still feel a bit bad for that one....
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 13:23, Reply)

to this day
I can't tread on the lines in case the bears get me.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 13:22, 1 reply)

Monster Cables
I bought a plasma telly today and the sales chappy was quite insistent that I would not get the best out of my new acquisition unless I forked out for Monster Cables. Telly was $1400 and the HDMI Monster Cable he strongly recommended was around $300. I cant recall the exact price as I had switched off at that stage, having listened as he showed me the $750 cable which, he kindly explained, was superfluous to my needs. But the one at around half the price... a must have.

I am afraid I had to tell him I consider Monster Cables to be the biggest scam going and my preference would be for him to stop treating me like a muppet and in return I would stop thinking of him as a prick.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:57, 6 replies)

Wind turbines
If you look at those wind turbines that are going to save the planet and provide all our electricity, you will notice that there is a small cage like structure at the opposite end on the turbine to the blades. I told my girlfriend that that is there for the bloke to sit in when he points the turbine into the wind.

Which she believed. Bless.
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:41, Reply)

I really did believe it was butter
Apparently it's not.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:37, Reply)

parents again
My dad convinced me that a field in Derbyshire, which we always used to drive past on the way to the grandparents, and contained a weird-looking transmitter thing, was in fact an underground aerodrome.

mr tulip thought this was very funny when I pointed this out to him last year.

I felt very silly.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:28, Reply)

Not MY most gullible moment per se...
But there was this girl who would fall for anything you told her, assuming you were wearing your serious face. Such things included:

Dragons at Marwell Zoo (and that they were merely well hidden)

The Swiss navy (and how they are regarded as one of the best in the world)

And general stuff on that level.
( Green Spanner and his magical lack of activity, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:12, 1 reply)

Not really related..
I tried to tell my mum the Reese Witherspoon joke but it backfired quite spectacularly.

Me: Oh noes! Did you hear about that actress who got stabbed?
Mum: What? Who was it?
Me: You know, that actress... ugh, what's her name? Reese... Reese..
Mum: Oh oh oh! I know her.. um...
Me: She was in Legally Blond..
Mum: ... Reese.. wasn't she the one in Bridget Jones' Diary?
Me: ... that was Renée Zellweger.

Rinse. Wash. Repeat.
(Aruu does not put all her trust in root vegetables., Sat 23 Aug 2008, 12:05, Reply)

Tree fellers from Cork
Back in the early 90's I worked on a tree gang in Milton Keynes (nowhere near Cork, I know, but I couldnt resist using an old Two Ronnies line!). The gang consisted of Nick the Foreman, myself & Stuart the chainsaw operators & tractor drivers and a very green 16 year old lad called Roy on his first proper job since leaving school.

Basically, we would spend all day out in the woods thinning out the young plantations. When working out in the woods, there tends to be a general lack of the basic facilities enjoyed in most workplaces, to wit, a khazi. This is fine if all you need is a number 1, but a number 2 presents a whole new set of difficulties.

Now the earthy country types amongst you might not have a problem with taking a dump outside. You simply find a quiet spot, dig a hole, do your business in it, then bury it. Simple. I find it quite an enjoyable experience, providing I can find somewhere where I know I wont be disturbed by a dog walker, which, trust me, is embarrassing for all concerned. Roy was a city boy, and the whole concept of crapping anywhere other than a porcelain bowl was completely alien to him. He found it utterly disgusting that one of us would occasionally wander off with a spade under one arm and a bog roll under the other, and would always say things like "I could never do that" and "Id hold in in until I got home, no matter what".

And so the wind up began...

We began returning from our 'missions' carrying a plastic bag containing some soil or a short thick stick, which we would then hold up to Roy and announce to him that it was "my shit", and that we were going to take it home to flush it down the lavvy. "Of course we dont crap in the woods Roy, thats disgusting, thats what Gyppos do". We would then stash the bag in one of the tractors ready to take home (and just tip it out somewhere later).

This went on for months, but we knew that eventually he would, ahem, crack.

Then one glorious day, it happened. Roy announced to us that he could hold it in no longer and he had to go off for a shit. So off he went with his Tesco's carrier bag and his bog roll under his arm and we waited.

He was gone for AGES! I mean like about 45 minutes. We'd got bored of sitting around just waiting so had resumed work again when he eventually emerged carrying what looked like a weeks shopping! Fuck me I dont think Ive ever laughed so much in my life! Nick fell to the floor and just thumped the gound in hysterics, sort of cartoon style. Stuart was half way up a tree at the time doing some pruning, and the whole tree was shaking with his laughter.

The best bit was that Roy later said that the hardest part was getting his legs through the handles of the carrier bag!!! (Oh the mental image!)

Within a week, even his mum was calling him "Baggy"!

He now runs a successful tree surgery business of his own. Good on ya Roy.
(Lionel Tiger, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 11:52, 1 reply)

Mad Inventor
My mate Pete convinced Jo, the secretary at work that he had 'invented' broccoli in the 1980s.
(seedybee68 not involved in any rioting since 31 March 1990, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 11:34, Reply)

Toilet Hippos
Me and some friends once managed to convince a really camp "guy" that there were such things as toilet hippos. These miniature hippos zoom around the sewers with tiny scrubbers cleaning them....and that's where we all started telling him different things. My take was that they floated on poos to get to each side of the sewer, and if they ever found anything valuable that someone had flushed down by accident, they would have to take it to the toilet hippo emperor, who sits on a throne of big mac.

It took him 2 weeks to cotton on.
(ladyflash Formally known as "oshi_", Sat 23 Aug 2008, 11:10, Reply)

Worst. Dad. Ever.
A friend who works at a betting shop chain regaled this tale to me of his day at work.

Late one evening, a regular wanders in and starts putting some bets on some horses. He'd brought along his 19-year old son who was a bit of a scrounger, and his dad was pretty tight. The kid was begging his dad to lend him a fiver to put a bet on and his dad was having none of it. After kicking up a stink, the kid wanders outside to have a cigarette while the guy finishes his bets and starts chatting with the staff. Meanwhile, the kid is outside picking up scratch cards looking for any unscratched ones, and proceeding to scratch off any that he finds.

While the guys were talking, the kid wanders in, scratch card in hand, literally trembling. His dad asks what's up, and the kid finally forms words.
"Dad! I won ten grand! Really! Honest!"
The dad, unbelievingly, takes the scratch card, and then he becomes speechless too. The card was a winner, with the symbols matching up to the automatic ten thousand pound prize. He hands the card back to the kid who is screaming celebratory and telling all the staff he's giving them all a hundred quid each, and soon everyone is happy.

The dad then asks the kid how does he claim the cash. The kid carefully turns the card over, still trembling, and begins to read aloud the card.
"If you have won 1000 pounds, please send this card to the tooth fairy."
The trembling stops. Some people are confused.
"If you have won 5000 pounds, please send this card to the North Pole."
The trembling begins again, although this time it is in rage.
"If you are still reading this, you've been had you gullible mug!"
The dad can't contain himself any more and starts absolutely wetting himself. He then reveals that he, knowing his son always scrounges for scratch cards whenever they come, dropped the joke scratch card on the floor on the way in. The kid's face had gone purple, and everyone was pissing themselves at his expense. The gullible mug.
(kingh0 is grating the cheese of life, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 9:57, 2 replies)

Gullible
Try this.

Hold down the control key on your keyboard (it's the one labelled Ctrl - over there, on the left..)

Then, with the control key pressed, spin your mouse-wheel really fast.

Enjoy.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 8:31, 4 replies)

Not on purpose, but....
When my son, Chris, was a wee runt (3 or 4 years old), he let loose a bit of gas. Something that vile had no right to exist in someone so small. My nose burned. My eyes watered. It was brutal!! I told him how much I appreciated his sharing his innermost with me and asked him "Did something crawl up your ass and die?" He laughed. I laughed. And the day continued on it's merry way without a second thought or a repeat performance.
Later, that evening, my wife was taking an exceptionally long time to put Chris to sleep. The normal story and kiss on the head didn't seem to be doing the trick. Finally she came out of the bedroom, stared at me and with a look and tone of anger and laughter that I had not seen or heard before or since, asked me "What the hell did you say to him?" After the shortest pause, the afternoon incident jumped to mind and I began to laugh. Impressed was not the word for her reaction. But it didn't help her case that she had to fight not to break out laughing as well. (It seems to be important to have one mature adult in the house. Not my job.)
Apparently the little sprog was afraid that while he slept, creatures were going to crawl up his backside with the sole purpose of dying and infecting the world with their rotting stench. Mother managed to convince the little fellow that his father was a cruel idiot and that no such thing could or would happen.
He seems to have grown up well enough adjusted. But we still occasionally get a chuckle in the house when a particularly nasty odor floats about and the short version is asked, "Did something crawl?" Well he and I do. His mother still isn't quite over it.
Blah, blah, blah, length
(mrbuddhafreak, Sat 23 Aug 2008, 8:21, Reply)